


Surf

by plingo_kat



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Beaches, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 21:30:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9517028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plingo_kat/pseuds/plingo_kat
Summary: “Real spies do not do this,” Illya says. He squints judgmentally at Napoleon.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crypt_mirror](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crypt_mirror/gifts).



> For crypt_mirror, who prompted "Fluffy Napollya or smutty Napollya" & donated $10 to the ACLU! <3
> 
> If you'd like to prompt me in support of civil liberties, here is a post on [tumblr](http://pushthequorumbutton.tumblr.com/post/156512832566/so-ive-basically-ditched-tumblr-for-twitter-but) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/plingokat/status/825534225159905280) where I explain what I'm doing.

“Real spies do not do this,” Illya says. He squints judgmentally at Napoleon.

“Sure they do.” Napoleon flashes the other man his best smile. “We’re spies and we’re doing it, aren’t we?”

“ _You_ are doing it,” Illya corrects him.

“Well I’m still a spy, and I’m doing it,” Napoleon says. “So real spies _do_ go surfing. Come on, I thought this would be right up your alley.”

“Why?” Illya asks, scornful. “Because I am big and strong?”

“Because you have a beautiful sense of balance,” Napoleon corrects him gently. Then he grins. “And because you’d look great in a pair of swim trunks.”

Amazingly, Illya flushes. Napoleon watches his ears turn red with delight.

“You cannot trick me,” Illya says stiffly.

Napoleon slinks a little closer to him and looks at him from beneath lidded lashes. “You sure, Peril? I can be real persuasive.”

“I am not going to do this.” When Napoleon opens his mouth Illya shakes his head to cut him off. “I will not, eh, _surf_. But I will go to beach with you. Okay?”

“That’s all I wanted.” Napoleon gives in gracefully, clapping Illya on the shoulder. He keeps his hand there afterward. “You need help shopping?”

Illya glares at him. Napoleon laughs.

 

“Wow,” Gaby says. She tips her sunglasses down to give them a once-over from her lounge chair.

Napoleon can share her enthusiasm. He looks good, of course, but Illya is something else: trim waist outlined with dark blue fabric that clings to every line and curve, heavy muscle along his shoulder and back, toned calves leading down to well-formed feet. He’s six and a half feet of eye candy.

Not that Gaby isn’t also stunning. She has on a little white number that contrasts with the golden tan of her skin and draws the eye to her toned stomach, her long legs; and she has a floppy matching sun hat and sunglasses which class up the look considerably. Napoleon approves.

“Hello, beautiful.” Napoleon spikes his surfboard into the sand by Gaby’s feet, making sure the shadow is cast away from her body. It’d be a shame to ruin her tan. “I see you started without us.”

“Well you are so slow.” She stretches languidly, raising her arms above her head even as she gives a little fake yawn. “So I came out here by myself.”

Napoleon barely resists the urge to clap. He shoots a look at Illya, who has averted his face and crossed his arms across his chest. It only makes his biceps more appealing. How is this even fair, he thinks. Surrounded be beautiful people and he’s off to – well, to have a lot of fun, really. And then he’ll get to come back here and lie next to Illya’s bare skin and Gaby’s pretty self, and let the sun dry him off, and generally have an excellent day.

“In that case,” Napoleon announces, “I’m not wasting any time. Peril, you should watch me to see what you’re missing out on. Gaby, I’m trusting you to look after him.”

Gaby laughs. Napoleon swoops down to kiss her on the cheek, and because this is Europe he also tugs Illya close to do the same. If his lips catch the corners of Illya’s, who’s to say it wasn’t an accident?

“Sayonara, Peril.”

“See you soon, Cowboy.”


End file.
